


retracing our steps

by enamuko



Series: FE Rarepair Week 2k17 - Summer Edition [5]
Category: Fire Emblem Series, Fire Emblem: If | Fire Emblem: Fates
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-03
Updated: 2017-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-10 18:45:38
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,150
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11697672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/enamuko/pseuds/enamuko
Summary: Long ago, Gunter, Iago, and Corrin engaged in a delicate game of political intrigue in the Northern Fortress. Now they return after the war with a much different outlook on life.





	retracing our steps

**Author's Note:**

> My OT3 to end all OT3s. Seriously, I love every aspect of this ship. Every possible combination is Good and Iago needs as many people as possible to keep him in line.
> 
> Prompt is 'visiting'.

“How kind of you to grace us with your presence, Iago.”

“It’s always a pleasure to visit the Northern Fortress and see what you’ve done with the place, Gunter.”

Between most people, it would have been a simple exchange of pleasantries. Between Iago and Gunter, both sounded like they were smelling something _awful_ as they spoke—and beneath that, a barely disguised venom.

Corrin kept out of the way of both of them. Having Iago around made her nervous, and how tense Gunter was when Iago was visiting the Fortress certainly didn’t help the matter. She preferred to keep out of the way and keep quiet until Iago finished his inspections; it had been that way since he was a child.

At the same time, though, Corrin was—notoriously curious. When you grew up with the same half a dozen people in the same place for your entire life, even concerning visitations from people who frightened you were… somewhat welcome. When Iago roamed about the fortress, doing whatever was involved in an inspection, sometimes Corrin would find herself ‘coincidentally’ heading in the same direction for just long enough to force pleasantries, without Iago prying any deeper into her life—not that she envisioned him as the sort of person who would be interested in that sort of thing.

“Why would you _want_ to spend _any_ time around that worm?” Jakob asked once, when she told him over tea.

“He might be frightening,” she replied as she sipped her tea. “But even frightening can be interesting sometimes.”

 

 

“I don’t need an escort, Gunter; I believe I know this wretched place like the back of my hand at this point.”

“All the same, I feel more comfortable giving you one.”

Gunter politely smiled at Iago, a smile so tense and forced it was a small wonder Iago didn’t call him out on it. Then again, the look on Iago’s face was none too pleasant; he turned his nose up at everything he saw, including Gunter himself when his eyes deigned to wander in his direction. The two might have been enemies, but they were at least enemies who knew where they stood with each other.

…it was almost refreshing.

“As long as you don’t intend to get in my way, I suppose I can tolerate it.”

“A pity, that.”

Iago sniffed at him, and Gunter continued to dog his heels. He had no intentions of letting King Garon’s lap dog run around unsupervised in his fortress. He would surely stick his nose somewhere it didn’t belong if Gunter left him to his own devices.

“I assume the princess is progressing in her studies?” Iago asked with a casual disinterest. It was obviously just something he was supposed to ask—something to check off his list.

“She is. Prince Xander and I have made sure of that.”

“Good, good.” Iago waved off the rest of the conversation, as if discussing Corrin was the least pleasant thing he could imagine.

Gunter narrowed his eyes.

“You could stand to be a bit more interested in Lady Corrin’s wellbeing, you know.” He knew he might regret saying something, but Iago annoyed him enough to needle him into it even when he wasn’t trying to do so. “She _is_ the whole reason King Garon is interested in this place, after all.”

“Perhaps,” Iago said, drawing the word out in a terrible drawl. “Perhaps I just trust her to your care. Have you ever considered that?”

Gunter laughed. He couldn’t help it. The idea of Iago trusting him with _anything_ was downright laughable.

“You wouldn’t trust me as far as you could throw me.”

“You’re a failure as a knight, of course,” Iago said, flapping his wrist about as he swept on ahead, taking advantage of Gunter’s distraction. “But as a babysitter… I’ve always considered you decent enough. Certainly no one else would want the job.”

“I… suppose I should consider that a compliment.” Which stupefied him. Though it was a very backhanded, Iago-like way of complimenting someone…

“I wouldn’t.”

“Well, I would imagine you don’t have much experience with being complimented. It’s understandable.”

“Ass.”

 

 

“I know you’re there, princess. Peeking around corners is doing you no good.”

Iago wasn’t sure whether to be annoyed, exasperated, or amused by the way Corrin squeaked and tried to hide herself when he called her out. After a moment, the top of her head poked out around the corner.

“How did you—?”

“—know you were following me? You’re not a stealthy woman, Lady Corrin.” Though the fact that she didn’t wear shoes made it hard to hear her footsteps, which was a start. Not much of one, but a start all the same. “Perhaps instead of wasting your time in that library of yours, you should ask to be taught now to sneak about properly.”

“Would you _want_ me to know how to sneak about?” She had appeared from around her hiding corner and was leaning against the wall now, hands folded behind her back.

“It wouldn’t be any skin off my back,” Iago replied, turning his back on Corrin. He suspected she would follow, since she’d been following him so far; if she didn’t, it was hardly his problem. “You might make Gunter’s life a little more difficult, and I can only approve of that.”

“Why do the two of you hate each other so much?” She was following, and now that she’d been caught, she was much bolder; she trotted to catch up to him and walked at his side.

“A long, complicated history that a princess need not concern herself with,” he replied with a sniff. He hoped she would get the message. He didn’t appreciate having his personal life inquired after, even if it was only a question of an old grudge. “And thanks to that complicated history, I imagine he wouldn’t be too keen on you talking to me. …nor am I, for that matter.”

Corrin’s step faltered at that, and he continued without pausing, gaining some ground on her. Unfortunately, she had much more exuberance on her side and quickly caught up with him again.

“Do you hate _me_?”

She didn’t sound like she was really bothered by the idea, but he was surprised she would ask such a thing in the first place. And he had to consider his answer carefully.

“…I could never _hate_ a member of the royal family, Lady Corrin.” He could be diplomatic when it suited him. He didn’t much care for it otherwise. “But I have much better things to be doing than riding out to this cold, dusty fortress and wandering about for days at a time.”

“Fair enough.”

He expected Corrin to drift off after that, but to his surprise, she continued at his side—this time in blissful silence. It was only once they reached her beloved library that Corrin wandered away from him.

“You know… you’re not the only person who doesn’t want to be here,” she said as she opened the massive wooden door, using it to partly hide herself.

He meant to say something in response, but the door shut behind Corrin, and the moment was lost.

 

 

Even barefoot, Corrin’s footsteps seemed to echo in the empty halls. She kicked up dust with every step and left footprints behind her like she was walking in wet sand.

It hadn’t been that long since they’d left the Northern Fortress—though it felt like an age. Flora, Felicia, Jakob, and Gunter must have been much more efficient than she’d ever realized—the place was an absolute wreck now that there was no one living there.

“We survived the trek here, but I wouldn’t be surprised if we were done in by choking on the dust.”

Iago cleared his throat in an obnoxious, obviously intentional way. Corrin ignored him, walking further into the fortress.

“Considering your constant complaining the entire trip, you would think we’d come close enough already.”

She ignored Gunter, too; as she walked further into the fortress, she could hear the two men take up their typical bickering, which she’d listened to for the entire trip (and many times before that, and expected to listen to it for many years to come).

She walked familiar paths in the old halls. Soon she lost Gunter and Iago somewhere behind her. They had either broken off to do their own exploration, or for more practical purposes—Gunter to put away the horses, provided the stables were in good enough condition, and Iago to find somewhere not too dingy for them to sleep in. After the length of their journey, they were hardly going to be able to pick up and leave before needing a night’s rest.

Corrin wandered to all her old haunts—her bedroom, of course, where most of her clothes were still hanging in the closet but had been ravaged by the rats that had taken over the fortress in the time they’d been gone; the dining hall where she took her meals, where thankfully all the leftover food had been tossed out before the fortress had been abandoned—or maybe eaten by those same rats, it didn’t matter in the long run.

It was when she finally came to the library that she ran into one of her companions; Iago was sitting at one of the tables, flipping through a thick tome.

“I see the rats have left this place alone,” she said as she stepped inside, thankful for that. Everything was still covered in a concerning layer of dust, but none of the books looked like they’d been nibbled on or ripped up to make bedding like her clothes had.

“Perhaps they couldn’t stomach the contents.” Iago gestured to the rows and rows of books just behind him. Much of the library was filled with tomes on the subjects of history, magic, politics… but a significant portion was made up of the books Corrin had spent most of her time on, the fantasy and mystery and romance novels that had made up a good portion of her childhood and teen years.

It was funny that her life had turned out more like a romance novel than she’d ever expected. She remembered many of those books being about a brave princess who fell in love with her faithful knight—and one rather _adult oriented_ one about a princess falling for her father’s scheming vizier. (She could remember Gunter taking particular exception to that one. She hadn’t listened. She could see why now—and it amused her greatly.)

“Oh, you’re probably right. These old magic and history tomes are probably far too _dry_ for them.” She brushed the dust from some of the tomes for emphasis. Iago simply snorted.

“If you applied yourself to studying as much as you applied yourself to that joke, you might have made a half decent mage,” he snorted.

“Many people would say the same about you.”

Iago looked none too impressed when he turned his gaze from her to their third, who stood in the doorway with his arms crossed.

“I am both talented _and_ hilarious, and your meager insults won’t convince me otherwise,” he said in a monotone drawl, going back to whatever he was reading.

“They do say confidence is the first step.” Gunter stepped further into the room, letting the heavy door swing shut behind him, kicking up more of the omnipresent dust. “The upper floors seem to be in better condition than the main hall. I’ve taken the liberty of cleaning up one of the bedrooms—as well as I could manage, of course. It will be fine for a single night.”

Since it would probably take an entire crew to get the place liveable again, that was impressive enough.

“I’ve also taken the liberty of tending to the horses. They’re comfortable and fed.” He gave a small bow, probably out of habit since she hardly expected him to take a servant’s demeanor with her _now_.

“As quick and efficient as ever, Gunter. Thank you.”

“You know me, Corrin. I’m not the sort who enjoys sitting about idly while there’s work to be done.”

“If you want to start something, old man, just say what you mean. Quit trying to be clever.”

Corrin sighed. Honestly, she couldn’t decide if their feud was amusing or frustrating—it really all depended on her mood. And after an entire journey filled with little conversation other than bickering, she was tired of it.

“Boys, boys. You’re both pretty. Can we figure out what we’re going to do for dinner now?”

Iago and Gunter exchanged one last sharp look, before Gunter stepped back towards the door.

“I’ll figure something out, I’m sure,” he said. “If you’re not too busy with your reading, Iago, would you mind lending a hand?”

“That sort of ridiculous reverse psychology doesn’t work on me. But if it will prevent another night of stewed potato and cabbage, I suppose I can _supervise_.” Iago rose from his table and flipped his ostentatious feathered cloak, following Gunter out the door and to what remained of the kitchens.

Corrin meandered over to her bookshelves, wondering if maybe she could find that vizier book again…

Funny, it didn’t seem to be where it should have been. Had she misplaced it years ago and just forgotten? Strange…

 

 

“Remind me why we came back to this godsforsaken place?”

Iago crawled up the length of the bed, since Gunter had inconveniently—and likely quite on purpose—chosen to lie down on the side of the bed that wasn’t pressed up against the wall. He collapsed onto the soft pillows, and was satisfied with the fact that they didn’t send up massive clouds of dust.

“Because Corrin needs closure,” Gunter replied, not bothering to look up from the book his was reading; judging by the condition of it, he’d gotten the moldering thing from the library. “She did live here for most of her life, after all—and both of us are partially at fault for her suffering. It’s only fair we accompany her.”

Had Gunter made such a claim years ago, Iago would probably have argued; after all, they were only doing as King Garon wished, and Corrin was often quick to say that she didn’t hate the fortress as most people would expect her to. Now he simply held his tongue. …he couldn’t say he was wrong, though he imagined Gunter’s blaming himself was more out of his nature as a martyr than because of any actual culpability.

“Just tell me we won’t be here long.” He threw an arm over his eyes, partly for dramatic effect, partly to simply block out the light from Gunter’s lantern. Unlike the knight, who had been running about all day tidying up and was still wide awake, he was more than ready for bed. Now that he no longer had to work all hours of the night and day, he found he greatly appreciated _sleep_.

“We’ll be here as long as Corrin wants us to be,” Gunter replied with his ‘I’m being very patient but I’m starting to get annoyed’ voice, which Iago knew all too well. And as always, he was ready to completely ignore the warning.

“Which will be soon, I hope. Before the rats make a meal out of us.” He tucked himself nicely into the bed, just in case. Though he knew rats wouldn’t be so bold around potential predators. After he tucked himself in, he scooted closer to Gunter, enjoying the body heat. The Northern Fortress was just as damp and cold as he remembered it being…

“It will take exactly as long as it takes—”

“You two aren’t fighting again, are you?”

Iago cracked open an eye as the door opened and Corrin stepped inside. She was peeking around the door just as she used to peek around corners at him.

Alright, perhaps the place _was_ nostalgic… somewhat.

“As sure as the day is long,” Iago replied, though his voice was unpleasantly heavy and was muffled by the way his face was half-buried in Gunter’s shoulder.

Corrin rolled her eyes at them and crawled up on the end of the bed. Rather than simply crawling up the length of it like Iago had, Corrin lifted the blanket and disappeared under it, squirming her way up between the two of them. Iago grumbled as she wiggled him aside.

Eventually (and with much more effort than it would have taken her to simply crawl over top of them), Corrin’s head appeared from under the blankets. She settled herself comfortably between the two of them. Iago, not one to be shoved about, was obstinate in keeping his spot—making it so Corrin was squished between the two of them. It was well enough; the bed wasn’t made to accommodate three adults, and if Corrin wasn’t going to complain, he certainly wasn’t going to either.

“What are you reading?” She settled her head on Iago’s shoulder, just as Iago had his settled on Gunter’s, but she tried to peer at the book in Gunter’s hand all the same.

Gunter closed the book—he hadn’t gotten very far in it—and let Corrin take a good look at the cover. The title was some erotica drivel that Iago didn’t recognize; judging by the binding, it was hardly a master’s work, and judging by the seeming age of the thing he was surprised its cheap binding hadn’t fallen apart. Corrin gasped; she obviously recognized it.

“I was looking for that!”

“Were you? I thought you’d read it more than enough; I wanted to see what all the fuss is about.” Though Corrin was desperately reaching for the book like a child reached for a toy, Gunter had no trouble keeping it out of her reach.

“As if! You always hated when I read it!” To her credit, she was still trying—and shoving him closer and closer to the wall as she did so. Finally fed up with it, he wrapped his arms around her waist and pulled her in for a half-hug, half-restraint. “Iagooooo.” Aside from her whining, she didn’t actually _resist_ at all; in fact, she settled back against him. Physical affection—the most potent weapon one could use against Corrin, because she would practically melt against the initiator.

“I’m too tired for this nonsense,” he muttered against the top of her hair. “Go to sleep. You can steal it back from him in the morning.”

Corrin giggled and settled back against him. Gunter chuckled and kissed the top of her head.

After lying with his eyes closed and Corrin’s body warming his for several minutes and feeling no closer to sleep, no matter that he felt exhausted, Iago let out a small grumble.

“…so what is that book about, anyhow?”

“Well, Iago,” Gunter said. “I’m very glad you asked. This was one of Corrin’s favorites, you know.”

Corrin just groaned.


End file.
